


Just for a Week

by Pocketlesssouls



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gay, Gay Male Character, M/M, gay relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-07-14 23:49:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16051112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pocketlesssouls/pseuds/Pocketlesssouls
Summary: "Well you suck at Potions, Harry.""So?""So if you want to be an auror, you have to keep your grades up. I can tutor you.""And you'll only help me if I agree to be your boyfriend?""Just for a week.""You're mental."





	1. The Plan

  Harry watched from across the room as Dean Thomas tucked a piece of fiery red hair behind Ginny Weasley’s ear. She smiled at him and placed a kiss on his cheek. Harry turned away.  
  It had taken exactly three weeks for Ginny to move on from their relationship. In three weeks, she had managed to get over everything that she and Harry had had over the past year and move on to the next guy, or in this case, return to the previous guy.  
  It wasn’t like Harry wasn’t happy for them. They were both his friends, and he wasn’t jealous of Dean. The spark between him and Ginny had been gone for a while. Everything had seemed so overwhelming and exciting during the war, but after, it just faded away. Harry and Ginny both knew it wasn’t there anymore, but Harry was content with pretending like they were okay. After all, neither of them had done anything wrong or breakup worthy. Ginny, however, was not a fan of pretending. She’s the one who called it off, but there were no hard feelings. They were better as friends.  
  So obviously, Harry was happy for them. Dean and Ginny getting back together wasn’t what bothered him; what was bothering him was how pathetic he felt. Ginny had moved on so quickly, and what had Harry done for the past three weeks? He wallowed. He felt sorry for himself. That was what you were supposed to do after a breakup, wasn’t it? He was sad, and he would miss having Ginny around all the time, but to him, the wallowing felt more like going through the motions, and it was pathetic. He could tell his friends looked at him with pity in their eyes. Ron and Hermione were the worst. They didn’t want to make Harry feel bad, so they refused to act like a couple in front of him. Whenever he entered a room, they would jump ten feet apart and turn to him with the same sorry look on their faces. Harry started taking different routes to class just to avoid them.  
  His eyes scanned the quiet library until they landed on Draco Malfoy. He was leaning so far over the book at his table, Harry was afraid he might fall into it. His eyebrows were scrunched together in concentration, and he was chewing on his bottom lip. Harry thought it was possibly the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. Then, as if sensing Harry’s eyes on him, Draco looked up from his book. His stormy grey eyes instantly met Harry’s, and he shot him a wink. A small laugh that was more like an exhale escaped Harry’s mouth, and he shot a wink back.  
  Harry was not really sure what to expect when he had come back to Hogwarts for his eighth year, but if there was a list of things he’d least expected, becoming friends with Draco Malfoy would’ve been at the top of it. Still, over the first three months of school, that’s exactly what happened. It started slow at first. The atmosphere was different between them from the first day back, Harry could feel it. He no longer felt Draco’s eyes burning holes into his skull, or heard him whispering cruel things in the corridors, and Harry didn’t feel the urge to do those things either.  
  All of the eighth years pretty much had the same schedule, so Harry and Draco inevitably spent most of the day together. The first few weeks of school they only made subtle eye contact from across the room. Soon though, the eye contact turned to staring, the staring turned to smiling, that turned to waving, and eventually, they shared their first civil conversation.  
  Harry quickly found that Draco was actually really fun to be around. Sure, he could still be a jerk sometimes, but it was different from before. Now when he was being a jerk, he was joking. More important than his tendencies to tease Harry, was the fact that he was incredibly smart and witty. Harry was learning things about Draco that he never knew before, like the fact that he could play the most beautiful songs on the piano from memory and with his eyes closed. Harry loved learning new things about Draco.  
  They talked in class, studied together, went to quidditch games, and had lively debates in the eighth year common room. Draco was a good friend to Harry. He listened to his concerns, told him when he was being ridiculous, and was the only one who didn’t have pity in his eyes when he looked at him. Draco got Harry through his breakup. He sat silently next to Harry through his hours of wallowing, brought his favorite treats from Hogsmeade to cheer him up, and reminded Harry repeatedly that it was better this way.  
  Harry watched now as Draco dropped his gaze and started staring at someone over his shoulder instead. Harry turned in his seat to see Blaise Zabini talking with a seventh year bloke at the table behind his. They were sitting even closer than Ginny and Dean were. When he looked back at Draco, the other boy was reading again, unfazed.  
  Harry had tried to help Draco through his breakup the way that Draco had helped him, but Draco was inconsolable. Not because he was a wreck, but because there was nothing to console. It had only been one week since Blaise dumped him, but Draco never shed a tear, he never wallowed, he never once allowed himself to appear pathetic. In fact, the day of the breakup, Draco had simply moved over to Harry’s table at the Three Broomsticks, and acted like the conversation he’d just had with Blaise was normal. Normal was the only word Harry could use to describe Draco’s behavior for the rest of that night too. He didn’t even find out that Blaise had broken up with Draco that night until the next day. Even then, Draco was casual about it.  
  “We’re not talking anymore,” he’d said with a shrug when Harry asked why he wasn’t eating breakfast with his boyfriend. Then he took another bite of his toast, and that was that. He didn’t talk about it again, and Harry didn’t pry. Instead, he helped in the only way Draco would let him.  
  Harry picked up the potions book he was reading and carried it over to Draco’s table. He sat in the seat next to him and moved closer so they wouldn’t be overheard.  
  “So what’ll it be today?” He asked in a hushed tone, peering over at Blaise’s table. “Sneaking ton-tongue toffees into their dinners? Setting off portable swamps in their dorm rooms? The Peruvian instant darkness powder was a huge success by the way. I heard it took Blaise twenty minutes to find his way out of the bathroom yesterday.” Maybe playing pranks on Blaise every day for the past week was a little childish, but it made Draco happy. Besides, as an investor in their business, Harry got a great deal at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.  
  Draco continued pretending to read his book, but Harry knew he was listening. He saw the corner of his mouth turning up in a grin, and he couldn’t help but smile himself. These days, Harry was doing anything he could to put that smile on his friend’s face.  
  Both boys looked up at the sound of chairs moving across the room. Blaise and the seventh year were leaving the library, Blaise practically leading the seventh year out by the hand. Harry swore he could see Draco tensing up, but the moment they left the room he was back to him calm, cool composure.  
  “No,” He whispered back at Harry. “I have something even bigger in the works. I’ll tell you when the details are worked out.” Harry was a little more than intrigued at the promise of this new plan, but he knew better than to press Draco while he was plotting. He would just have to wait and see. Draco pulled the potions book out of Harry’s hands and examined it.  
  “Potions for Beginners?” He shot Harry a puzzled look. “I don’t think students that are in an extended year of school count as beginners.” Harry snatched the book out of his hand and put it back in his school bag.  
  “Just a bit of recreational reading,” Harry asserted with a shrug. “It was just the first book I grabbed.”  
  “Hey,” Draco’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise, “you’re getting better. That lie was almost believable. I might be rubbing off on you after all, Potter.”  
  “Shove off, Malfoy.” Harry said, actually shoving his shoulder. Draco just laughed and held his hands up in surrender.  
  “I’m sorry,” he replied more seriously. “Are you struggling in Potions again?”  
  “No,” Harry answered, almost too quickly. “Well, you know, it’s just all those years of neglectful teaching and exclusion from Snape finally taking its toll in a real Potions class.” Harry attempted to seem unconcerned and lighthearted about the matter, but he could tell that Draco wasn’t buying it. “It’s just this one exam,” he admitted. “Once I get past it, I’ll be okay.” He may have been stretching the truth a bit with that last part. He’d need to get good marks on the next five exams at least, and that would only stop him from completely falling behind in the class. He hated talking about potions with Draco though. Harry was better at Defense Against the Dark Arts and flying, and Draco was better at pretty much everything else, including Potions. Harry would never admit that to him though.  
  So, in order to avoid having the conversation go any further, he cut it short. “Speaking of exams, I’m supposed to meet Ron and Hermione to revise for Transfiguration.” Harry gathered up his things and stood next to Draco, who was looking particularly amused. “I’ll see you later though, right? Then I’ll get to hear about this plan of yours?” He asked, shifting his books in his arms.  
  “Seven o’clock,” Draco said, already returning to his book. “Your room.”

  The eighth year common room was set up a lot like the Gryffindor common room, but it looked newer. After the Battle of Hogwarts destroyed a decent chunk of the school, the staff was forced to do some major remodeling, and the eighth year dorms were included in the new additions. Still, there were tables, chairs, couches, bookshelves, and two fireplaces, and even though there were decorations to represent all four houses in the common room now, it still felt like home to Harry every time he entered it.  
  He entered the room now and spotted Ron and Hermione on a couch by one of the fireplaces. They had purposely left a seat open in the middle for him. Harry rolled his eyes and set his books on the coffee table.  
  “Alright, guys?” he said, sitting on the floor facing them.Ron and Hermione glanced nervously at each other before hesitantly sliding closer together.  
  “Hey Harry,” Ron started. “We haven’t seen you since dinner. Where’d you go off to?”  
  “Oh, I was just in the library,” Harry answered, pulling out his Transfiguration homework.  
  “The library?” Hermione inquired curiously.  
  “Yes, Hermione,” Harry said, never looking up from his books. “You know about the library; you’ve been there once or twice.” Harry chose to ignore the looks his two best friends were sharing. He already knew where this conversation was going. The library had been Dean and Ginny’s hangout place since they’d gotten back together. Harry suspected it was because they knew he hardly went there. He knew that Ron and Hermione thought he was there to spy on them, and that suspicion was only confirmed when Ron said, “Yeah, mate, but you haven’t really been hanging out there since… well y’know.”  
  “I was just there to study,” Harry said, unable to hide the bit of annoyance in his voice, “and to talk to Draco-”  
  “Oh!” Hermione exclaimed a bit too enthusiastically. “Draco.” She and Ron exchanged another look. Harry didn’t understand what these looks meant, but they happened almost every time he mentioned Draco. At first he thought it was because they didn’t approve, but they had been nothing but supportive of the friendship. They’d even started developing their own friendships with Draco. He and Hermione could debate for hours about the most boring things, and he was the only one in their year that stood a chance against Ron when it came to Wizard’s Chess. Harry was glad that they were all getting along. Still though, Ron and Hermione must’ve had some sort of shared opinion of him, something that they didn’t want to tell Harry.  
  “Speaking of studying,” Harry said, before he could become even more frustrated with their behavior, “Aren’t we supposed to be doing that now?” For the next hour he hardly looked up from his work, only talked about the assignment, and ignored the concerned looks coming from his friends.

  At seven o’clock, tired and slightly irritable from the time spent with Ron and Hermione, Harry climbed the stairs to his dorm room. When he opened his door, he was greeted with a strange sight. Draco was standing by a chalkboard that he had somehow managed to get into Harry’s room. The board was covered in lists, graphs, charts, and at the top in big letters were the words, “The Plan”.  
  “What’s all this?” Harry asked, stepping into the room.  
  “You’re right on time.” Draco set down the piece of chalk he was using to write a pro-con list on the board. He turned to face Harry, his expression inscrutable. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to Harry’s bed. “It’s time for me to introduce you to The Plan.” Harry could hardly stop himself from asking the hundreds of questions that were popping into his head. Instead, he took a seat on the edge of his bed, and waited for Draco to explain. Draco came to sit next to him, and he was so close that Harry could smell the faint scent of mint that Draco always seemed to carry with him. Harry noticed that Draco was bouncing his leg, and there seemed to be some sort of unsettling energy about him. Whatever this plan was, he was obviously nervous to tell Harry about it.  
  “Harry,” Draco began, not quite meeting his eyes. “You and I have been friends for a while now. Your kind of my partner in crime at this point.” He smiled sheepishly, and Harry smiled too. “I trust you, you know I do, and I hope you’ll trust me enough to just hear me out on this one.” Harry was starting to feel nervous. He felt his chest tightening with every second that Draco didn’t tell him what was going on.  
  “What is it?” He asked, unable to hold back any longer.  
  “Harry,” Draco said more firmly. This time his eyes intensely locked on Harry’s own. Harry looked down to where Draco had taken his hand before meeting his eyes again.  “I’ve come up with a plan so brilliant that it’ll help us both. It’s the best way to get back at Blaise and the best way to prove to your friends that you’ve moved on.” There was a spark of excitement in Draco’s grey eyes, and Harry felt something then. There, looking into Draco’s eyes, their fingers firmly locked together, he felt something new. He had no idea what it was. He was so shocked by this new feeling that he could barely speak above a whisper when he said, “What is it?”, and Draco spoke the words that would be the beginning of something big.  
  “I think we should date.”


	2. The Debut

  The room was filled with the most deafening silence Harry had ever heard in his life. He was very aware of the way his breath had caught in his throat at the sound of Draco’s last words. He was even more aware of how close Draco was sitting, and of his hand clutching Harry’s own.

  “You what?” Harry exclaimed, finally breaking the silence. He jumped off the bed, ripping his hand out of Draco’s, and crossed the room. The minute he felt he was far enough away, he started pacing. With Draco on the other side of the room, his head was beginning to clear again. The unidentified feeling that had washed over him a few seconds ago was starting to fade.

  “Hear me out,” Draco said, jumping off the bed too, though to Harry’s relief, he stayed to his own side of the room. He held his hands cautiously out in front of him like Harry was a wild animal that he didn’t want to scare away.

  Harry wasn’t in the mood to listen. He felt a lingering buzz where Draco had touched his hand, his heart was racing, and there were so many thoughts running through his head that he couldn’t make out any of them. He was entirely confused. “No.” He shook his head. “No, I… I mean we can’t…” Draco made a noise of discontent, and Harry looked up at him for the first time since hearing the idea. He wasn’t expecting to see the hurt in Draco’s eyes or the small frown on his lips.

  “I can see the idea of us dating completely disgusts you,” Draco said in a low voice, “but you don’t have to worry about that. It would be pretend.” Harry’s heart dropped at the look Draco was giving him now, he felt stupid for jumping to conclusions and guilty for hurting Draco’s feelings with his reaction. He crossed the room again and slumped onto the bed.

  “Talk,” he said, his voice much calmer.

  “For one week,” Draco said, obviously encouraged by the fact that Harry was listening. “We would pretend for only one week.”

  “Why would we be doing this again?” Harry asked, laying back on the bed so that he could stare at the ceiling instead of Draco.

  “So that you don’t look like the pathetic loser who couldn’t move on from your relationship with Ginny.” That one stung Harry a bit, that was exactly how his classmates saw him. Draco could tell that he had struck a nerve, and he dug inside his pocket for a toffee which he handed to Harry. This was part of his whole learning to be kind thing. Whenever he said something mean, something that was uncalled for, or something that the old Draco would say, he gave the person a piece of whatever candy he was carrying on him that day. Harry, being one of the people Draco spoke to most and his ex-mortal enemy, had had a lot of sweets this year.

   “I’m sorry. I mean when Blaise sees me with you, he’ll be begging me to take him back by week’s end. He’s thought that I had a thing for you for a while. He’ll be insanely jealous.”

  Harry sat up and unwrapped the toffee to eat while he thought this over. The silence was creeping up on them again, but before it could get too unbearable, Draco added, “Plus I’ll tutor you in Potions.”

  “What?” Harry asked, looking at Draco again. “What does that have to do with this?”

  “Well you suck at Potions, Harry.”

  “So?”

  “So If you want to be an auror, you have to keep your grades up. I’ll tutor you.”

  “And you’ll only help me if I agree to be your boyfriend?”

  “Just for a week.”

  “You’re mental.” But Harry could already feel himself starting to cave.

  “Come on, Harry,” Draco said, exasperatedly. He hoped back onto the bed, sitting just as close to Harry as he had before. Harry’s heart was starting to race again. What was going on with him tonight? Maybe it was stress from upcoming exams or maybe it was the adrenaline that seemed to be radiating off of Draco. Either way, he felt like he was going crazy. He chanced another glance into Draco’s eyes. They were pleading.

  “Don’t you trust me?” Draco asked, and Harry knew it was over. There was no way he could possibly say no to Draco or those stormy grey eyes.   
  “So how is this going to work?” Harry sighed. Draco’s face broke out in a grin, and Harry felt the corner of his mouth turn up.

  “Well,” Draco started, his energy renewing, “we do the normal gross couple stuff. Convince everyone that we fancy each other, and then it’ll all be over. Of course we’ll have to set some rules…”

  “Of course.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Would it really be a Draco Malfoy plan if it didn’t have rules?” Draco ignored him, climbing off the bed once again to return to the board that he was writing on. He wrote “Rules” in perfect letters across the top.

  “We can’t tell anyone it’s fake,” he said, writing it on the board. “Not even Granger and Weasley.” Harry felt his stomach drop, already feeling guilty from this secret that he hadn’t had a chance to keep from them yet. After the war, they agreed that there would be no secrets between them ever again, and so far they’d stuck to it.

  Harry stayed quiet and Draco took that as a sign of agreement. “Whenever Blaise and Ginny are around we have to do something convincing: hold hands, you can put your arm around my shoulders, and I’ll even write you notes and enchant them into swans during class. Blaise will hate that, he’s wanted me to do that for him since he saw me do it in third year.” Harry thought back to the day in third year when Draco blew a paper swan over to his table. It had turned out to be a mean drawing of Harry getting struck by lighting on the Quidditch field. Harry had been so angry about it then, but looking back now, he couldn’t help but grin.

  “That wasn’t exactly a love letter,” he reminded Draco. ”But, I will admit that it was a decent drawing.” Yeah, Harry would admit that, but he would never admit to anyone that he still had it buried deep in his trunk.

  “Yeah, okay.” Draco rolled his eyes and looked away. Harry swore he saw his cheeks turning red. “Do you have any rules that you would like to add?”

  Harry thought for a moment. He was having a hard enough time wrapping his head around this situation. He had no idea what he wanted out of it but there was one thing he knew he didn’t want.

  “No kissing,” He stated. Draco had a talent for turning his face into a Etch-A-Sketch whenever he wanted to. He would simply shake his head once, subtly so that you couldn’t really tell if you weren’t really paying attention, and then his face would be clear of emotion and completely unreadable. He did that now, Harry felt his stomach flip.

  “Harry, nobody is going to believe that we’re in a relationship if we don’t-”

  “On the lips,” Harry amended. “No kissing on the lips. The hand or the cheek is okay. I’m just not comfortable with anything else.

  “So since we’re traveling back in time, would you like me to bow when I kiss the top of your hand? Throw my coat over puddles on the ground so you can walk across them? Throw pebbles at your dorm room window? That one would be a bit tricky considering how high up this room is, but I suppose I could spell the rocks to hit the window.” Draco’s smile was humorless. Harry didn’t understand why he was being such a jerk about this.

  “You asked if I had any rules,” Harry reminded him. “I’m just telling you my-” He paused for a moment, thinking over the list Draco had just given him. “Have you been watching muggle romance movies?” Now Draco’s face was definitely turning red. Good, Harry thought. Serves him right.

  “Of course not.” Draco said, turning back to the board to hide his face. “I don’t know how to work those muggle movie players.” And then so faintly Harry almost didn’t hear it he added, “I read the books.” He wrote “No Kissing (on the lips)”, and turned back to Harry. “Anything else you would like to add?” He said this as a challenge, Harry almost wanted to suggest something just to see the irritable twitch of Draco’s brow, but he didn’t want to push him too far tonight. He would have the whole week to do that. If Harry was going to go along with this plan, he was at least going to have some fun with it. He shook his head no and Draco relaxed a bit.

  “Okay,” Draco clapped his hands together. “I’m going to get rid of this board so that your roommates don’t see it. Think you can remember these three rules?” Harry rolled his eyes but nodded. “Good, then all we have to do is shake on it.” Harry froze at that. He was hesitant to put his hand back in Draco’s after what had happened earlier. He could write off the weird feeling as nerves once, but if it happened again, he didn’t know what it would mean. Draco gave him a weird look, almost like he sensed the battle going on in Harry’s mind.

  “Okay,” Harry said, though his voice wasn’t as sure as before. He got off the bed and walked over to where Draco was sticking his hand out, waiting for him. He was completely screwed. The minute his skin touched Draco’s the feeling was back. It was like a tingling sensation that made it seem like everything around Harry was on mute and the only thing on full blast was the pounding of his heart. He met Draco’s eyes and for a second he thought he saw something there, like maybe Draco felt it too, but then whatever he had seen in Draco’s eyes was gone. Etch-A-Sketch.

  “So when do we debut?” Harry asked, taking his hand away.

  “Tomorrow morning,” Draco answered, turning away to pack up his things, and then his eyes are back on Harry. He feels so dazed and confused that he gets the sudden urge to lay down. Draco lingers a moment more. There’s something going on behind his eyes, a conversation he’s having with himself, like he’s deciding if he wants to say something else. Harry wants to say something else too, but he doesn’t know what. He can just feel the words climbing up his throat and then getting stuck there, piling up until it’s almost impossible to breathe. So instead he says, “tomorrow morning”, and the other words spill back down to his stomach. Draco nods and then leaves the room. Harry decides that he does actually need to lay down, so that’s what he does, but he doesn’t sleep, not even after he hears the other boys coming in to sleep, or after he hears each of them begin to snore. He lays in bed trying to recreate the feeling he had a few hours before so that he can pick it apart and identify it, but it’s faded by now, so instead he allows his mind to drift to the image of two stormy grey eyes over and over again until he finally falls asleep.

~~~

  Harry should be used to attention by now. He’d drawn attention since the moment he stepped foot into the wizarding world. People would always stare at him, eyes roaming over his face to the scar on his forehead, they would whisper about him, and some were even brave enough to ask for his autograph or ask questions about the war.

  This, however, was not that same kind of attention. Everyone in the Great Hall turned to stare at him the moment he entered the room, but it wasn’t because of the scar, the war, or because he was Harry Potter. It was because he was hand in hand with Draco Malfoy.

  Harry couldn’t help but squirm under the weight of all of those eyes. Draco didn’t even seem to notice the staring or the whispers. He was scanning the eighth year table, looking for Blaise. When he spotted him towards the end, sitting with Pansy and scowling at the sight of them, he seemed satisfied. He held his head up a little more, and led Harry over to where Hermione and Ron were sitting. Harry, wanting to hide from the rest of the room, climbed onto the bench across from them as quickly as possible. Draco slid onto the bench next to him, letting his arm fall over Harry’s shoulders. Harry chanced a glance as Blaise, he could practically see smoke coming out of his ears.

  Hermione cleared her throat, and Harry turned towards his friends as if just remembering that they were there. They were wearing matching expressions of bewilderment, though Hermione at least had the sense to keep her mouth closed.

  “Is there something you’d like to share with us, Harry?” She asked, looking between him and Draco.

  “Erm…” Harry started, but he couldn’t come up with an explanation.

   “You act like you’ve never seen two blokes together before, Weasley,” Draco was saying to Ron, “and you’ve got some porridge running down your chin,” he added, pointing at his own chin. Ron snapped out of it and started wiping his face with his napkin.

  “When did this happen?” Hermione said, now trying to hide her smile.

  “Oh what, this?” Draco asked, innocently. He examined his arm around Harry’s shoulders and then shrugged like that’s where he had always put his arm. “We’ve been together for a while now, thought you would’ve noticed.”

  “Mmhmm.” Hermione studied Harry’s reddening face. “Is that so?”

  Harry thought that it was over before they’d even started. He knew Hermione was too smart to believe their lies. She was probably going to call their bluff any second now and then they’d have to explain themselves to the whole school.

  “Alright then,” She said instead, leaning back and crossing her arms in an approving way. “I always thought you two would be nice together.” Harry felt his face heating up even more. His eyes met Ron’s across the table. Ron’s were narrowed, he was looking suspiciously at Harry, and Harry was suddenly worried that it would be Ron that would figure them out, but he just said, “Why didn’t you tell us, mate?”, and went back to eating.

  Harry let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. If Ron and Hermione believed it, then it would be a piece of cake convincing the rest of the school. “Oh I don’t know,” he answered. “I guess we just wanted to keep things private for a while because of the break ups, but since Ginny and Blaise have moved on too, we thought it was time to go public. Isn’t that right...er...sweetheart?” He looked over at Draco who was giving him a look that told him that he should never call him that again.

  “Right…” Draco said, smirking at Harry’s embarrassment. Harry knew he’d be hearing about that one later. “Anyway, I better get going.” He got off the bench and gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek. “See you after class, love.” He called as he walked away, the rest of the Great Hall watching him go.

  Once he was out of the doors the eyes in the room turned back to Harry, but this time he wasn’t paying attention to them. His chest was aching, his stomach doing somersaults, and the spot on his cheek where Draco’s lips had been only a few seconds earlier was tingling. He was wondering what he had actually gotten himself into when Hermione’s voice broke him out of his daze.

  “Congratulations, Harry!” She was beaming at him.

  “What?”

  “I know that you’ve had a crush on Draco for a while, and now you’re finally together!” She was practically buzzing with excitement. “Oh this is going to be so good for you- for both of you, really.”

   “Yeah,” Harry agreed, though he couldn’t stop thinking about her words. How could she have known that he had a crush on Draco when he didn’t even know what was going on himself. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he was starting to regret agreeing to this plan. Things were different for him now in a way that he knew they weren’t different for Draco; he was starting to wonder if he really had to _fake_ having feelings for Draco after all.

 


	3. The Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I know it's been a while since the last update, but I am on a roll and determined to finish. I have some secret plans in store for the next few chapters. Enjoy, and don't forget to leave a comment!

Harry was in Defense Against the Dark Arts when the first paper swan landed on his desk. He hardly payed attention in this class anymore. It was more of a formality so that he could become an auror one day. Everyone in that class, everyone in the wizarding world, knew that Harry was skilled in this subject.

He was just starting to doze off when the swan fluttered onto the table in front of him, brushing his cheek on the way down. He quickly sat up straighter and turned around to look at Draco who gave him a wink and a sly smile. Harry felt the eyes of the rest of the class on him as he opened up the note. It was another drawing of Harry on his broom, just like in third year, but this time he was chasing after the snitch, and Draco was flying alongside him, racing him for it. On the bottom in Draco’s perfect cursive it said, “Thanks again for doing this. You’re a great friend, Harry”. Harry felt his heart drop at the word friend, but he just shook his head and continued reading. “P.S. It’s already working”. He glanced up from the note to see Blaise fuming on the other side of the room, Ron and Hermione were sharing a tender smile on Harry’s right, and even Dean gave Harry a thumbs up when he looked his way. Things really were working out the way Draco had said they would.

Harry folded the note and tucked it inside his bag, then pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and started working on one of his own. He drew himself, laying on the ground next to Draco; They were stargazing. One of Harry’s hands was pointing up at a shooting star, the other was firmly locked in Draco’s. At the bottom he wrote, “I think we can make it a bit more believable”. He carefully folded it and sent it flying over to Draco’s desk, turning in his seat to wait for his reaction. His eyes widened as soon as he unfolded the paper. His pale face started turning red, and out of the corned of his eye, Harry noticed that Blaise’s face was pretty red too.

It was like that in every class they had together. The teachers either didn’t notice or pretended not to. They wrote each other dozens of notes, each drawing made with the purpose of getting the other boy to blush. Their classmates may have thought that they were passing love notes, but really it was an unspoken competition.

Still, Harry’s heart skipped a beat every time he received a drawing of them slow dancing, ice skating, or simply hanging out in the common room, Draco’s head resting on Harry’s lap. At the end of their last class of the day, when Harry and Draco both had a decent pile of notes in their bags and Blaise looked ready to explode, Draco sent one final note Harry’s way.

It was a picture of Draco leaning in to kiss Harry, but when he got close enough, Harry turned away and Draco’s kiss landed on his cheek. The picture was captioned, “Bloody rule #3”. Harry’s hand automatically flew up to his cheek where Draco had kissed him just earlier that day. His face was burning hot under his fingers. Without looking over at Draco, Harry shoved the note into his bag, not taking the time to fold it, and turned his attention to the front of the class where Professor Binns was lecturing. He pretended to pay attention for the rest of the lesson, feeling Draco’s eyes on him the whole time.

 

“So you’ll come then, won’t you?” Hermione asked. Harry snapped out of his daze.

“What?” Hermione gave him a look.

“Weren’t you listening?” The truth was, he hadn’t been listening. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were making their way down to the Great Hall for dinner. Harry had been distracted the whole way, thinking about the drawing. He knew that Hermione had been talking, but usually just nodding along every now and then was enough to satisfy her during her rants.

“Er…” Harry muttered, trying to recall anything she had said to him in the past five minutes. He looked to Ron for help, but he just shrugged and gave him a sympathetic smile. Apparently he hadn’t been listening either. Hermione looked between the two of them and huffed.

“Honestly, I don’t know why I waste my breath with you two sometimes.” She fixed Ron and Harry each with a glare that made them guiltily look away. “I was asking if you and Draco would come on a double date with me and Ron on our next Hogsmeade visit this weekend. It’s been ages since we’ve hung out.”

“Not that that’s your fault, mate,” Ron chimed in. “We understand that you’ve been… well, er… sad about the breakup, but now that you’ve moved on things can be normal again, right? We miss you,” He finished with a sheepish grin.

Harry felt his heart growing heavier with every word that they spoke. Had he really neglected his best friends that much over the past few weeks? Was he a terrible friend? If he wasn’t, did keeping this secret from them make him one?

He was about to form some sort of apology or explanation, but all he managed was, “Listen guys, I’m sor-” because they had reached the Great Hall, and Harry saw Draco leaning against the giant oak doors, waiting for him. His hands were in his pockets, and his head was tilted back so he couldn’t see them approaching. He looked like a statue, a beautiful, perfect statue. Suddenly Harry’s heart was in his throat and he wasn’t sure why, but he was filled with the urge to run, so that’s exactly what he did.

“Actually, I think I left my- er- I have to run back to the dorms,” he said, already turning on his heel to run in the opposite direction. “I’ll meet you guys in there,” He called as he rounded the corner.  
He was looking over his shoulder to make sure Draco hadn’t seen him, so he wasn’t paying attention when he turned the corner and smacked right into a girl, knocking her to the ground.

“Ouch!” Ginny Weasley exclaimed, rubbing her hands that had scraped the ground when she fell. She was too busy assessing the damage to look up at Harry’s horrified expression. Harry doubted whether she even knew that it was him standing over her. Those doubts were confirmed when she said, “Can you watch where you’re- oh! Harry, it’s you.” Her fierce eyes softened when they met his, and for a moment they just stared at each other, Ginny still sprawled on the floor. Harry reached out a hand to help her up. She took it.

“I’m so sorry, Ginny,” he said, pulling her to her feet. His voice sounded weird to him, everything about this encounter felt weird to him.

“Oh, it’s alright,” she replied. Her voice sounded weird too. She dusted off her robes and then looked back up at him, they stared at each other in silence again. It was in that silence that Harry realized that this was the longest they had been alone together since the breakup, and it felt wrong. They were being too polite. They had been friends before anything else, before they dated and created this whole mess, it shouldn’t be this weird. He was about to open his mouth to say so when Ginny said, “Can we go somewhere to talk?” Harry’s stomach flipped. What could she want to talk to him about? Did Ron or Hermione tell her that he had been spying on her and Dean in the library and now she was mad? Did she hear about Harry and Draco? Did she want to get back together? Did she want to stop being friends entirely? He had no idea what she wanted to say, and her face was completely unreadable, but he nodded and they awkwardly walked to the eighth year common room. Harry was filled with dread; He felt like he was about to get the breakup speech for the second time.

When they got to the common room, they settled on a couch by the fire. Ginny was so close that Harry could count the freckles on her face. Ginny looked around the room, pulling her legs up on the couch between them. The room was empty since all of the other eighth years were at dinner.

“This place really does look like the Gryffindor common room,” she noted. “Dean told me that, but I’ve never seen it before. I almost wish I was in here with you guys so I wouldn’t have to listen to the first years gossiping anymore.” The fire reflected in her eyes as she spoke, and her hair shone so bright it looked like it might ignite on its own. “I get that they weren’t here last year when it happened, but all they can seem to talk about is the war, and which of the Hogwarts students did what in it. They talk about you of course, but they also talk about me, Ron, Hermione.” She paused, as if remembering something. “I almost socked one of them the other day for saying his name.” Ginny’s expression turned stony, and instantly Harry knew that she was talking about Fred.  
After the war, no one seemed to have any problem saying Voldemort’s name, but there were many more names that went unspoken, and Harry preferred it that way.

“I hear the whispers too,” he assured her. “They follow me wherever I go.” She put her hand on his shoulder, and they shared a look that only two people who had been through as much as they both had could share.

“This is weird,” Ginny stated, breaking the silence and the awkward tension. She had a talent for saying the things that needed to be said. Harry felt himself relax. He let out a short laugh and Ginny’s eyes lit up. “Well isn’t it?” She laughed with him. “We haven’t been this weird around each other since I had a crush on you years ago.” Harry smiled, remembering the days when Ginny used to run away whenever he entered a room. A lot like he had just done with Draco…  
He stopped laughing, suddenly embarrassed by how he had acted. What reason did he have to run away from Draco? Ginny, sensing his mood change, tried to catch his eye again.

“I’m so happy for you,” she said firmly, “and so, so proud.” Harry looked up at that.

“Proud?”

“Yes, proud.” She smiled and ruffled his already messy hair. “I kind of had a feeling that you were into him. I think you’ve been into him for as long as I was into you, and you finally did something about it.” Harry was taken aback. Wasn’t that the same thing Hermione had said to him? How could they have known when he still wasn’t sure himself?

“How?” he decided to ask. “How did you know?”

“Are you kidding?” She grinned. “You two are like magnets, complete opposites, but no one can deny the attraction. It’s obvious in the way that you look at each other and the way that you look for each other wherever you go. You’ve been doing it for forever.”

Harry stopped and thought back to every time he had looked for Draco when he entered the Great Hall, every time he had found the other boy staring back at him, every time his mind had drifted to Draco over the years, and the way that he had practically obsessed over him in year six. He had to admit that what Ginny was saying did make a lot of sense. Good or bad, he had always felt a pull toward Draco.

“How do I know for sure?” he asked, voicing the number one question on his mind, and then feeling embarrassed, he added, “the relationship is still pretty new, and I don’t want to get it wrong like-” He stopped himself short, but Ginny knew what he had meant to say.

“Like with us?” He nodded guiltily. “It’s in the kiss,” she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “When you kiss you should just know.” Harry’s mind flashed to the drawing, and then to the board where the no kissing rule was written.

“Yeah…” he trailed off, looking for a new subject and hoping she didn’t notice him blush. “Ginny, I’m really happy for you and Dean too, even if it doesn’t seem like it.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a hug.

“I know you are, Harry,” she whispered. “I really miss this. Can we go back to being friends? I mean real friends?” Harry was beyond relieved to hear her say that, but before he could say anything, the common room door swung open and Draco waltzed in, followed by a few other eighth years who were done eating.

Ginny jumped up from the couch and said “see you later, Harry,” before hurrying out the door. Draco passed her without a word on his way over to Harry.

“What was that about?” He asked, taking the spot that she had just left. Harry saw a spark of something in Draco’s eyes, but his tone was impassive, and his posture nonchalant. “Did you and Weasley get back together already?”

“No,” Harry whispered, flashing Draco a warning with his eyes as more eighth years entered the common room. “We were just talking. That’s not what I want anyway.” He met Draco’s eyes, and the wall was no longer up between them. His eyes were full of curiosity, hope, desire.

“What do you want, Harry?” Draco whispered back, but Harry didn’t answer. He had just spotted Pansy Parkinson walking into the room with a potion vial in her hand, and he remembered why there seemed to be more eighth years in the common room than usual.

“Oh no,” he muttered, and Draco turned to see what he was looking at. “It’s Thursday.” As soon as these words were out of his mouth, Pansy was in the middle of the room, holding up the bottle, and commanding the attention of everyone.

“Eighth year family game day!” She announced.


	4. The Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Twice in one week. That's a first! I don't even know if this chapter is any good, but I was excited to get it out. I hope you like it :)

  Draco Malfoy was not the only reformed student at Hogwarts that year. It may have taken some longer than others, but most of Draco’s friends managed to completely turn around after the war. Pansy had even developed a friendship with Hermione, and together they were determined to make sure all of the eighth years got along. That’s how “eighth year family game nights” were created. Every Thursday, most of the eighth years gather in the common room to play a game: twister, charades, pictionary, etc. (monopoly was banned after the girls realized that it was starting more fights than friendships). Every Thursday, Draco and Harry made sure that they were conveniently not in the common room, but now they were trapped. Everyone had already seen them in there -everyone had been staring at them since the scene in the Great Hall that morning- so they wouldn’t be able to sneak out if they tried, and Hermione was enthusiastically waving them over to the group.

  With one last shared look between them, Harry and Draco got to their feet and made their way over to the circle of eighth years. They found spots next to each other with Pansy sitting on Draco’s left and Hermione on Harry’s right, Ron was next to her, and the rest of the eighth years in the room filled in the rest of the circle.

  “Alright everyone,” Pansy said in her playful voice, her eyes shining with mischief. “I managed to snag us a special surprise for tonight’s game.” She held up the clear vial so that the entire group could see it. Hermione got up and started handing out glasses of Butterbeer. Harry had an odd feeling in his stomach. “This is veritaserum,” Pansy informed them. Harry felt Draco tense next to him. “Tonight’s game is truth or dare, and I thought it would be super fun to make sure we all really tell the truth.” Hermione caught Pansy’s eye as she passed around the drinks and Pansy sighed. “Granger says I have to inform you all that drinking the potion is completely optional and that we won’t judge you if you don’t, but,” her sweetly evil smile returned as she said, “I’m sure none of the people in this room will be too chicken to do it.”

  “The dares will be optional too,” Hermione chimed in, taking her seat again. “You can refuse and you can back out at any time.”

  “Ugh, alright Granger, stop making it more boring,” Pansy groaned, but there was no real annoyance in her tone. “Now, only a couple drops will be necessary for this,” she told them, pouring a few drops into her own cup. She passed the vial to Blaise, who Harry just realized was sitting on her left. He dropped some into his cup, and downed it without any hesitation. Harry chanced a glance at Draco. He appeared calm, but he was sitting a little too still. Harry felt his heart racing as the vial went around the circle and got closer to him. If he took the potion, he might risk telling everyone about the secret that he and Draco had, but no one had refused the potion so far, so he couldn’t really say no without looking suspicious.

  Hermione handed the vial to him. He heard Draco quietly suck in a breath as he poured a few drops into his cup, and Harry swore Draco’s hands were shaking slightly as he took the vial to do the same. Harry met Draco’s eyes, and they lifted the glasses to their mouths at the same time, drinking every last drop of the butterbeer.

  “Awesome!” Pansy sounded way too eager when they all had finished drinking. She burst into a fit of giggles and Harry wondered if butterbeer had really been the only thing she was drinking that night. “I’m glad to see that no one here is a puss-”

  “Okay!” Hermione shouted before Pansy could finish that sentence. “Why don’t I start us off! Neville, truth or dare?”

  Overall, the game was pretty tame. The dares weren’t things that could get any of them hurt or in serious trouble. Someone was dared to sneak down to the kitchen for snacks, and they came back with food and firewhiskey for the group. Harry was hesitant at first, but the more he drank, the funnier everything became, and the less he worried about spilling their secret.

  Harry and Luna were dared to switch clothes. Draco didn’t even try to hide the amused look on his face when Harry came back into the room wearing Luna’s skirt. Harry felt himself blushing as Draco gave him a once over, but he rolled his eyes and striked a pose anyway. The room was howling with laughter at that point, and Harry couldn’t ever remember seeing Draco so carefree and happy. Unfortunately for him, however, Harry and Luna got to switch back after two turns.

  Hermione and Pansy were even dared to share a small kiss on the lips. Harry noticed that Pansy was particularly excited for this dare.

  The truths were what Harry and Draco were really worried about, but people seemed to be avoiding asking Draco anything and the rest of the questions were fairly harmless. They found out that there were some small crushes in the group (though most of them were quite obvious anyway). They learned that if Neville had to choose a boy to kiss, it would be Ron (and Ron was so very flattered by this answer that he decided to give Neville a kiss on the cheek). The only slightly uncomfortable moment was when Blaise informed them, after a question asked by Pansy, that he had kissed twenty four boys at Hogwarts. Draco’s smile was a little more forced after that one.

  Now, it was dark outside the common room windows, and the room was alive with chatter and laughter. Harry was feeling warm from the firewhiskey, and looking around at all of his classmates, he had to admit that this game night was a success. Everyone was getting along just fine. They were about ready to call it a night, and Harry and Draco were almost in the clear, but there was still one person who didn’t have a turn yet and one person who hadn’t asked anyone yet.

  “Draco,” Blaise practically purred, turning his entire body to look the other boy directly in the eyes. The room seemed to go quiet as the two silently stared at each other. Harry tried to read Draco’s expression, to see what he was thinking, but he was unreadable. Blaise’s eyes flashed to Harry’s so quickly that Harry almost thought he imagined it, but there was no mistaking the look in his eyes as he turned them back on Draco. He was looking for blood. “Truth or Dare?” He asked in his cool voice, and the words hung there between them for a few moments while Draco thought it over.

  “Truth,” Draco answered, obviously having decided it was the safest route.

  However, it seemed that this was exactly what Blaise had wanted, for his smile grew even wider as he said, “You say you and Potter are a thing now,” he looked over at Harry again, and Harry felt the sudden urge to lunge across the circle at him, “but I don’t quite believe you. You don’t act like a couple, and you’ve hardly looked at each other the whole night,” he finished. Harry saw the anger flash in Draco’s eyes, but he also noticed that his hands were shaking again. They both knew what was coming. This was it; they were about to be outed in front of everyone. Blaise would ask the question, and there’s no way Draco could fight the response.

  “So what is your question exactly?” Draco said between clenched teeth. Blaise’s eyes were full of amusement.

  “Are you two really together?”

  Harry watched in horror as Draco’s jaw clenched. The room was silent as they awaited the response. The veins in Draco’s neck stood out as he fought to keep his mouth closed, but Harry knew that the words would fight their way through at any moment. He had to think fast.

  “If we weren’t together,” Harry stood up on his knees, and the eyes in the room turned to look at him, “would I do this?” Harry’s heart was racing, and Draco’s eyes widened as Harry knelt in front of him. Before he could change his mind, Harry closed his eyes, and soon his lips were crashing onto Draco’s. He felt Draco gasp against his mouth, but then his entire body relaxed and he was kissing Harry back. It was not like anything Harry had ever experienced before, and it was nothing like kissing Ginny. His lips were buzzing and burning at the same time, and the rest of the room seemed to fade away until the only sound he could hear was the sound of his and Draco’s heartbeats. Draco climbed onto his knees, wrapping his arms around Harry’s back, pulling him closer. Harry was hardly aware of his own hands as one of them held Draco’s jaw and the other went up to his perfect hair. Harry had been dreaming about running his hands through that perfectly-combed hair for longer than he knew. He felt a pull in his stomach, a desire he had never known before; this feeling was insatiable, but he wanted more anyway.

  It was the sound of Ron awkwardly clearing his throat that brought them back. They jumped apart, breathing heavily and trying to fix their wild hair. The rest of the room stared at them in complete shock, most of them blushing from a mix of the firewhiskey and the show they had just witnessed. Then Seamus Finnigan let out a whoop and the entire room burst into cheers and laughter. All except for Blaise, who was no longer looking amused.

  “No,” Draco said after the noise died down and he and Harry were breathing normally again. This answer seemed to satisfy the potion because he wasn’t struggling to keep his mouth closed anymore, but the rest of the room thought he was answering Harry’s question, not Blaise’s.

  “No,” Pansy agreed, looking completely shocked and thrilled all at once. “I suppose you wouldn’t do _that_ if you weren’t together.” The room erupted in laughter again.

  “Alright everyone, I think that is a good place to call it a night, but before we go, let us remember-” Hermione launched into the speech she gave every week about the importance of unity in the war and why it was still important for all of the eighth years to get along, but Harry wasn’t listening. He couldn’t stop staring at Draco. He couldn’t stop staring at Draco’s lips.

  Ginny had been right, as always. It was all in the kiss. Kissing Ginny, Harry had always felt a little awkward and wrong, but he had just assumed that was how everyone felt when they kissed someone. He had no idea what he had been missing. Now, there was no doubt in his mind. He had feelings for Draco, and they were overwhelming. Watching Draco as Draco watched Blaise, Harry knew that faking this relationship might nearly kill him, but he wouldn’t back out. What he wanted more than to be with Draco, was for Draco to be happy, and if that meant getting Blaise back, Harry would help him in anyway he could, even if it hurt.

  Draco’s eyes turned to Harry as everyone started leaving the common room to go to bed. They held each other’s gaze until every last person left the room, and then they held on a bit longer. Finally, and much to Harry’s disappointment, Draco looked away. He got up and silently reached out a hand to help Harry to his feet. Harry took his hand, and when he was standing, he let go. He followed Draco over to the couch by the fire that they had been sitting in earlier.

  “So much for rule number three, huh?” Draco shot him a playful wink and Harry laughed.

  “There are always exceptions to rules,” Harry smirked. “But don’t get used to it. That was probably the only exception we’ll ever have.” He thought he saw a bit of disappointment in Draco’s face, but the other boy looked away before he could be sure. Harry was disappointed himself. He wanted to kiss Draco again, but it would be so much harder to let him go if they did.

 “Don’t worry,” Draco said, almost as if he had read Harry’s mind. “I don’t think we’ll have to keep this up much longer. Blaise is cracking.”

  “Yeah, did you see his face before he left the room? I thought the floor was going to catch fire under his feet.” Harry giggled, something he wouldn’t have been proud of if his brain wasn’t clouded by firewhiskey. He leaned back against the couch and turned his head so he was facing Draco. Draco was smiling at him, but it was a different smile, one Harry hadn’t notice him use before. It was quiet, but it still made Harry’s heart leap into his throat.

  “Harry,” Draco started, and his voice was barely above a whisper. “About what I asked you earlier, I wanted to know-” But Harry had put a finger to Draco’s lips to stop him from talking.

  Draco moved Harry’s hand away from his face as Harry said, “Wait,” and seeing the look of confusion in Draco’s eyes he added, “I don’t think we should ask each other any questions right now. Not important questions, not until the potion is out of our systems.” Harry tried not to wince at the hurt look in Draco’s eyes.

  “There’s things you don’t want to tell me?” He asked, and Harry shook his head.

  “No, I’ll tell you anything, but don’t you want the answers to be things that I want to say and not things that I’m being forced to say?” Draco paused for a minute before nodding.

  “That makes sense,” he agreed. Harry let out a sigh of relief. He couldn’t have Draco asking what he wanted again, not now. Not when he knew Draco wouldn’t like the answer.

  “Oh,” Harry said, having just remembered something. “I think I agreed on us going on a double date with Ron and Hermione at Hogsmeade on Saturday.” Draco gave him a look, and Harry quickly assured him, “We don’t have to hang out with them the whole time. I knew you’d wanna spend some time with your other friends-”

  “I wanna go with you,” Draco said firmly. “It’s just the double date, it’s not my type of thing.”

  “Well good thing it’s not really a date for us then, right?” Harry tried to joke, but Draco just frowned and averted his eyes.

  “Yeah, good thing.”

 


	5. The Double Date

Harry looked at himself in the mirror again.

Harry walked back to the closet, tossing his clothes to the ground again.

Harry put on something that he had already tried on ten minutes ago.

Harry looked at himself in the mirror again.

This cycle lasted almost an hour before Ron couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“Mate, if you change your clothes one more time, I’m going to spell whatever you put on next so you won’t be able to take it off.” 

“You wouldn’t even know a spell to do that,” Harry commented, pulling down the green sweater he was wearing. 

“True, but I will go downstairs, ask ‘Mione, come back up here, and spell your clothes on you. Don’t make me do it. I will.” 

Harry looked up at Ron’s reflection in the mirror and saw that he was serious. He looked down at the sweater he had on and weighed his options before deciding not to risk it. 

“Fine. I’ll stick with what I have,” he grumbled, going to his drawer to pull out a pair of socks. 

“Good. Green looks nice on you anyway. It makes your eyes pop,” Ron said absentmindedly. Then, catching the look Harry threw him, he added, “I- I mean at least that’s what Draco will think. He’ll love anything you’re wearing. That’s what boyfriends do.” Harry’s heart dropped just like it did every time someone referred to Draco as his “boyfriend”. 

“Yeah,” Harry muttered, focusing all of his attention on tying his shoes so that Ron wouldn’t see the heat rising to his cheeks. 

“I should know,” Ron continued. “I  _ am _ a boyfriend after all. And if you ask me, I don’t really care about what Hermione’s wearing so much as when she takes her-”

“Okay, Ron!” Harry shot into a standing position. “I get it. I get what you’re trying to do, and thank you, but please, don’t ever talk to me about Hermione without clothes on. Ever.” 

“Oh right, sorry,” Ron said, looking sheepish. “Is this a gay thing? Like now that you’re dating a boy, you don’t want to talk about girls?” 

“No,” Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s a ‘Hermione is like my sister’ thing. Just like I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to tell you about Ginny without-”

“Yes! Yes, I understand what you’re saying now. Please stop talking.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, both of them uncomfortably looking at the floor and trying to chase out unwanted visuals. 

“Okay,” Harry said, reaching for the doorknob. “Then we’re agreed that we won’t talk about this anymore.” 

“Yes,” Ron nodded, looking eager to leave the room and this conversation behind. “Never again.” 

Harry and Ron walked down the stairs to the eighth year common room, laughing and joking the whole way down. Harry was just about to shove Ron for his comment about the third outfit he had tried on when he noticed that the other boy had stopped in his tracks at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Bloody hell…” Ron whisphered, letting his mouth hang open as he trailed off. Harry turned his head to follow his friend’s gaze.

Hermione was sitting in one of the loveseats by the fire, her head tossed back in laughter. Her usually messy clothes were now delicate ringlets that spiraled down past her shoulders, and her purple top gave Harry a momentary flashback to her Yule Ball dress. She looked beautiful, but Harry’s attention didn’t linger on her for very long because right next to her, leaning against the arm of her chair, and laughing right along with her, was Draco. Harry’s heart missed a beat as his eyes raked over what he was wearing. He had on dark blue skinny jeans, trainers (Harry had never seen Draco in trainers before), and a scarlet sweater that was just a bit too big. Harry looked down at his own green sweater and couldn’t help but wonder if Draco had dressed for him too. When his eyes finally landed on Draco’s face, he saw that the other boy was staring back at him, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. 

Harry was grateful when Ron slapped an arm around his shoulders, snapping him out of his daze and allowing him to tear his eyes away from Draco. 

“We’re the luckiest blokes in the school, aren’t we?” He grinned and ruffled Harry hair (that he had spent at least an hour trying to tame).

“Yeah…” Harry agreed, swatting Ron’s hands away, but he was already crossing the room to where Hermione sat waiting for him. Harry followed along behind him, too nervous to bother fixing his hair. 

“Hey, Dray,” He said, shuffling over to him. He barely had the words out of his mouth before Draco’s hands were in his hair, smoothing it down. 

“You look like you and Weasley just rolled out of bed together,” he was saying. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a hot look, but maybe a bit inappropriate for where we’re going.” 

Harry’s mind only played the words “hot look” at warpspeed in his mind about 2,000 times before he was able to compose himself enough to speak. 

He shot Draco a playful look.

“Fine,” he said, reaching up his hands, “but this is a little formal for where we’re going.” Draco visibly cringed as he watched Harry’s hands float toward his hair, but he didn’t move and he didn’t tell him to stop. Harry ran his hands through Draco’s white blond hair a few times, freeing the strands from whatever mold Draco had tried to gel them into. He ruffled it a bit, but still kept it neat, the way he knew Draco would want it. 

“Have you ever thought about a shaved side with a fringe?” Harry asked. “Maybe even a perm? I’m no expert, but I think that would be a pretty hot look.” He smiled at the bewildered expression on Draco’s face and dropped his hands. Only then did he notice how close they were standing. 

“Ahem.” Hermione cleared her throat and both Harry and Draco turned their heads. Ron and Hermione were watching them with matching looks of amusement. Harry took a flustered step back.

“Are you two ready to go or would you like five minutes alone?” Hermione asked. Harry noticed that Hermione’s lipstick was smudged at the corner of her mouth. He figured he knew exactly what she and Ron had been up to while he’d been… distracted. He didn’t understand how she could sit there and look so smug. 

Harry turned his head to share a look with Draco and then froze when he realized what they were doing. Draco was looking at him with the same playfully annoyed expression. They were sharing looks now like it was the most natural thing in the world. They were sharing looks like Ron and Hermione always did. 

Harry averted his eyes, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks. 

“Five minutes?” He heard Draco saying. “Is that all it takes for you two? That’s a pity, Granger.” He patted Hermione’s shoulder in mock sympathy before slipping his hand into Harry’s and pulling him toward the door. “Come on, let’s get this over with, shall we?” 

Harry turned to look back at his friends as he was dragged along, expecting to see looks of shock and outrage on their faces. Instead, he saw them following along behind him, and they were laughing. 

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be such a disaster after all. 

***

Harry had been right. The night was not nearly as awkward or strange or disastrous as he had thought it would be. 

Draco got along brilliantly with his friends. Harry had forgotten how truly charming he could be when he wanted to. He felt himself glowing with pride and affection every time Draco said something clever or made Ron and Hermione laugh. 

After a long day of being dragged through store after store, sharing sidelong glances with Draco every time Ron and Hermione were unbearably mushy, and trying to ignore the pounding in his chest and the buzzing in his fingers where they were intertwined with Draco’s, Harry was happy that they had decided to relax in the Three Broomsticks for a bit before heading back to the school. 

However, his sense of calm was gone all too quickly when Ron and Hermione both got up as soon as they had found a table. 

“Bathroom,” they both mumbled, avoiding eye contact and shuffling toward the back corner of the building. 

Harry and Draco were left alone. 

With all of the noise that the other patrons were making, it was hard to believe how deafening the silence between them was. Draco was staring at him, probably trying to figure out why he was acting so weird. Harry felt his hands begin to tremble and promptly placed them in his lap under the table so that Draco wouldn’t notice. 

“Looks like we have a whole five minutes to ourselves,” Draco joked. He leaned toward Harry as he spoke, trying to catch his eye. Harry let him, and he held his gaze for a minute as the laughter in Draco’s eyes turned to concern. 

“What’s wrong?” He scooted closer to Harry on the bench. Harry mentally slapped himself. He had to stop being so obvious; he had to act normal.

“Nothing,” he lied, tensing as Draco put his arm around the back of his seat. He still didn’t look convinced, so Harry forced a smile. “I’m just really glad you came. Thank you for doing this.” He felt himself relaxing as he said the words, his smile becoming less and less forced. He really meant what he was saying. All he wanted was for his three best friends in the world to be close, and Draco was making an effort. That meant everything to Harry. 

Draco let his arm slip from Harry’s chair to his shoulders, and Harry didn’t shy away. As much as he was afraid to be close to Draco, afraid of how it might intensify the feelings he was trying to conceal, he also knew that there really wasn’t anything he wanted more. 

“Are you kidding?” Draco asked, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Harry’s smile. “I got a chance to be part of the Golden Trio for a day. Kids at Hogwarts would pay good money for that.” Harry grinned and playfully rolled his eyes. 

“And,” Draco continued, “I have learned some very valuable insider information. You are each the third wheel in your own way and it’s kind of hilarious, but somehow you still make it work.”

Harry had never thought about it like that. He had always considered himself the third wheel, especially now that Ron and Hermione were together, but was it possible that he and Ron were closer in their own way? That he and Hermione had a special connection too?

“And,” Draco added when Harry didn’t say anything, “I got to spend the whole day with you.” 

Harry felt his heart jump into his throat. He leaned into Draco’s side, letting the rush of warmth from the touch wash over him. 

“Yeah,” he said at last. “I guess you should be thanking me.” 

Draco rolled his eyes, a gesture that Harry had come to love.

“Don’t push it, Potter,” he said, though his eyes were still smiling. “Draco Malfoy does not say thank you. I will, however, go get us a couple butterbeers.” And with that, he slide off the bench and waltzed up to the bar. 

Harry was left alone. 

The feeling of warmth and all of the happy thoughts swirling through his mind moments ago had vanished. He couldn’t keep slipping up like this. If he allowed himself to indulge his feelings, it would hurt even more when Draco and Blaise inevitably got back together. Harry ran his hands over his face, as if that could erase all of the hope he had allowed himself to feel. 

The week was almost up. Blaise was close to cracking. Harry only had to go through this for a little while longer and then he wouldn’t have to pretend anymore. 

His heart sank and his mind filled with dread. 

That wasn’t true, he realized. When this week was over, the real pretending would begin.

He was just starting to wonder whether or not Ron and Hermione were ever coming back when he heard the shouts.

“What do you think you’re doing here?”

“Get out, Death Eater!” 

“Scum like you don’t belong here!” 

Harry turned his head toward the source of the commotion. 

Draco was standing near the bar, two glasses of butterbeer in his hands. His path back to the table was blocked by three burly wizards. Their backs were turned toward Harry, but he could tell that they were drunk from the way they were swaying on their feet. Even in their inebriated state, Harry had no doubt that they could do real damage if they wanted to. 

He met Draco’s eyes over one of their shoulders and for the briefest moment, but that was all it took. He could see that Draco was scared. He felt the fear coursing through his own veins. But then Draco was turning back to the men in front of him, his face expressionless as they continued to hurl insults at him. 

“Let’s see that dark mark,” one of the guys said, reaching for Draco’s arm. Draco took a step back, but not before the guy caught hold of his wrist. He yanked Draco forward roughly, and the butterbeer fell to the floor, glass shards scattering as cries of shock rang throughout the room. 

“Harry!” Hermione called. She and Ron were standing near the bathrooms, trying to make their way through the crowd to Draco. 

Harry was closer. Harry was faster. 

He felt the adrenaline and rage kicking in as he pushed his way through the onlookers and over to the three men, pulling his wand out on the way. He couldn’t see Draco’s head among the heads of the three wizards anymore, and when he got closer he realized why. Draco was kneeling in front of the man in the middle of the group, his face contorted with pain from the way his wrist was twisted. The wizard holding his wrist was using his free hand to pull up the sleeve of Draco’s sweater, revealing the black lines of the mark beneath. 

Harry felt his heart breaking at the look of pain and humiliation on Draco’s face, felt the anger boiling hot in the pit of his stomach. He reached out, grabbing the shoulder of the man holding Draco and pulling hard until he turned and they were standing face to face. 

“Hey, get the hell off of-” he stopped mid sentence, his eyes traveling from the look on Harry’s face, to the wand pointed at his own chest, and resting on the scar on Harry’s forehead. 

“M-Mr. Potter,” he stammered, holding his hands up in surrender. Harry was vaguely aware of the hush that fell over the room at the sound of his name. Everyone had stopped to watch. He was also vaguely aware of Ron and Hermione helping Draco to his feet. 

The man’s friends had also turned to stare when they heard Harry’s name. He pointed his wand at them now and they too held their hands out in front of them. 

“We don’t want any trouble,” the one on the left choked out. 

“Really?” Harry asked sarcastically, his voice dripping with venom. “It certainly didn’t look that way to me.”

“Hey! We’re on your side!” The one on the right protested, taking a step forward and then stumbling back when Harry trained his wand on him. “We were just putting the Death Eater brat in his place.” 

“He is  _ not _ a Death Eater,” Harry growled. “He is a better man than any of you will ever be. Now all three of you get the hell out of here. Don’t let me catch you anywhere near him again.” The three men exchanged glances, but when Ron and Hermione also took out their wands, looking ready to kill, they headed out through the door without another word.

The room erupted in cheers as soon as the door shut behind them. 

“The Golden Trio!” People cried out. 

“Harry Potter-”

“-how generous!”

“How brave!”

But Harry wasn’t paying attention to them. His eyes were fixed on Draco whose eyes were glued to the ground. Harry had only seen Draco looking this sad and defeated once before, on top of an astronomy tower a long, long time ago. Seeing the look on his face made all of the adrenaline and anger drain from Harry’s body so quickly that he couldn’t stop himself from crossing the few feet between them to throw his arms around Draco. After a moment of hesitation, Draco hugged him back. Harry could feel him shaking.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his face pressed against Draco’s shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry,” Draco whispered in response, so low that Harry wouldn’t have heard him if he hadn’t been whispering directly into his ear. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated over and over. 

“Sorry for what?” Harry asked. He tried to pull back to look at him, but Draco just held him tighter for a moment before letting go completely. Before Harry could say anything, he turned on his heel and disappeared through the door. 

Harry tried to chase after him, but everywhere he turned someone was waiting to congratulate him on his kindness in sticking up for “the enemy”. He ignored these comments and pushed toward the door with Ron and Hermione at his sides, but by the time they made it out into the cold winter night, Draco was long gone. Harry closed his eyes, letting the wind sting his face and run through his hair, feeling completely helpless. When he opened them again, he was looking at Ron and Hermione’s concerned faces. 

“He must’ve went back to the castle,” Hermione said reassuringly.

“I should’ve hexed those gits!” Ron grunted, kicking a stone on the ground. 

“Ron!” Hermione chided. “Not helping.”

“No, he’s right.” Harry said, anger taking over again. “I should’ve done something other than let them go. They couldn’t have gone far. We can find them.” Ron nodded along as Hermione violently shook her head. 

“You let them go because you’re a good person, Harry, and we’re not going to look for them because neither of you actually want to hurt them. You’re just angry. Remember, it wasn’t that long ago when you wanted to fight Draco, and now we have to go find  _ him _ and be there for him.” 

Harry felt his anger fading again. Hermione was right, as usual. 

“Come on, you two,” She said calmly, taking each of their hands and knowing fully well that she had won. “Violence is never the answer.” 

“I seem to recall you being the one that punched Malfoy in the face in third year,” Ron said, earning him a smile from Harry and a glare from Hermione.

“Oh please don’t remind him about that,” she begged. “I was sort of hoping we could just forget about it.”

“Oh, I’m sure he remembers.” Ron grinned. “It was pretty badass.” 

They bickered back and forth the whole way back to the castle, and while Harry’s mind was still on Draco and how he could possibly help him feel better, he was glad he wasn’t in this alone, because the way that Ron and Hermione had come to Draco’s defense without a second thought made it very clear to Harry that they weren’t a trio anymore. 

 


	6. The Confrontation

Draco wasn’t in the common room when they got back. He wasn’t in the library, the Great Hall, or the potions room either. Unless he’d decided to run away, he was hiding in his room. Harry, Ron, and Hermione set up camp in the common room and waited. He would have to come down eventually, and then they would talk. 

But he didn’t come down.

They waited until all of the other eighth years had come back from Hogsmeade and gone up to bed, and he still hadn’t come down. 

Harry was just about to get up and break Draco’s door down if he had to when he saw Blaise and Pansy entering the common room with bottles of firewhisky. He sat up straight on the couch they had been sitting on and Ron and Hermione followed suit. 

“Where are you going with those?” Harry asked, staring Blaise down. Blaise’s smile was a little too sweet.

“To my room of course, not that it’s any of your business, Potter.” 

“Is Draco in th-” Hermione started to ask, but she cut off abruptly when Blaise and Pansy each held up an acorn. They took the tops off, revealing tiny scrolls of parchment. Pansy’s scroll read “I need a drink”, while Blaise’s just said “I need you”. Draco had to have sent the notes to them. Harry felt his stomach twisting at the smug look on Blaise’s face. 

“Can I just go up and check on him?” He kept his voice emotionless, trying to mask the hurt he was feeling. Blaise just smirked.

“Trouble in paradise, Potter?”

Harry took a step forward, but Ron and Hermione each put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. 

“Look,” Blaise continued, not even trying to hide his amusement. “I wish I could help you, but the note clearly states that he needs  _ me _ .” Harry clenched his fists until his nails were digging into his palms, until he felt the sting of the cuts they were making there. He looked at Pansy over Blaise’s shoulder. She looked almost apologetic. 

“I don’t know what happened tonight, but we’re his friends too. We’ll make sure he’s okay,” she assured him. Harry returned to glaring at Blaise.

“Have a goodnight, Potter. Granger. Weasely,” He said, giving them each a look in turn. “We’re off to comfort your boyfriend now.” And with that they turned away and disappeared up the stairs to Draco’s room. 

Hermione didn’t even mention the fact that girls weren’t allowed in the boys’ dorms to Pansy, she’d broken that rule a couple times herself after all. Instead, when they were left alone and the silence was becoming unbearable, she said, “Harry, I’m sure he-”

“No!” Harry shouted, shoving away from their hands. “It’s fine. He doesn’t need us. He has friends already. He doesn’t need  _ me _ . He’ll be fine.”

“Harry, that’s not-” Ron started, but Harry was already storming up the stairs to their room. 

“Goodnight!” He called over his shoulder, effectively ending the conversation. 

When he got to the room, he kicked off his shoes, flung himself onto his bed, drew the curtains, and laid down flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. He played the scene from the Three Broomsticks on repeat in his mind, he tried to ignore the voice telling him that Draco was trying to push him away, and he thought of nothing but the look on Draco’s face as he kneeled on the ground and the sound of him whispering “I’m sorry” over and over again until morning. 

~~~

Harry decided as he got dressed for the day that he would pretend like yesterday never even happened. He would pretend like he hadn’t been scared out of his mind for Draco at the Three Broomsticks, like he hadn’t believed that Draco really wanted to be part of their little trio, and he would pretend like he hadn’t been hurt by Draco choosing Blaise over him. Harry was determined to appear unfazed, to be cool, and to basically act like the old Draco Malfoy. 

As it turned out, Harry wasn’t great at pretending. 

Draco slammed his potions book closed, jolting Harry out of his thoughts. They had been sitting in the library for one of their daily potions lessons. So far Draco had been really good at holding up his end of the deal. He was an excellent teacher, and Harry was getting better marks in class because of these lessons, but he just couldn’t make himself pay attention today. 

“You’ve hardly said a word to me since we sat down. You’ve barely even looked at me,” Draco said, trying to catch Harry’s eye. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Harry lied. That answer was becoming instinctual at this point. He looked Draco in the eye for a moment, as if that proved that he didn’t have a problem. Truthfully, Harry was still feeling a hundred different emotions about the events of the day before. Being alone with Draco made him nervous, but he was also excited, sad, and mad at the same time. All of these emotions made it painful to look at Draco, so Harry had just been staring down at his book. But now, as his eyes locked with Draco’s, he could see that the other boy was hurt too, and he felt sorry for a moment. Just a moment. Then he remembered that Draco didn’t need him for comfort and how he had made that perfectly clear last night, and he was angry again. 

“I just can’t do this right now,” He said, closing his book and shoving it in his bag. “I need to go find Ron and Hermione.”

“Harry, I-” Draco started, but Harry was on his feet and out the door before he could finish. 

Harry knew he wasn’t going to track down Ron and Hermione. He just had to get out of that room. In reality, he had considered going to find Ginny. She had always been the voice of reason for him whenever his emotions got out of control, but he wasn’t sure if asking for advice about his not-boyfriend would be the right thing to do. They had just started being friends again, and Harry didn’t want to do anything to mess that up. 

So he just roamed aimlessly through the halls, not being able to sort through his thoughts, and not having anyone he could ask for help. He wasn’t expecting to hear the rush of footsteps coming down the hall after him. 

He hardly had time to turn around before Draco was there, pulling him into an empty classroom.  

“I’ve decided that there is something wrong with you and we are going to talk about it,” Draco announced. 

_ Like you talked to me about your problems last night?,  _ Harry wanted to say. Instead, he just pulled his arm out of Draco’s grasp and crossed the room so they weren’t standing so close. 

“I already told you, there’s nothing wr-”

“This is about yesterday, isn’t it?” Draco snapped, stunning Harry into silence. Draco’s face was emotionless once again, but Harry saw him swallow, saw the way his fingers were wrapped in the fabric of his pants to keep them from shaking. Was he...scared?

“Yes,” Harry admitted, crossing his arms, using every ounce of his strength to stand his ground when all he wanted to do was cross the room and take Draco’s hands in his. 

“I knew it,” Draco said, but his voice was barely above a whisper. His eyes rolled to the ceiling before he closed them, drawing in a shaky breath. “Those guys at the bar,” he whispered, eyes still closed, “they were right about me. They were right about me not belonging there. They were right about me being a filthy Death Eater. They were right about me not deserving your friendship or your protection. You’ve realized it too.” His voice was growing more confident, but it wasn’t sad or defensive. In his mind, he was just stating facts. He opened his eyes and looked right at Harry, but the walls were already up. Harry had no idea what he was thinking. “You’ve realized it too, and now you don’t want to be around me anymore.”

“Draco,” Harry whispered, not quite believing what he was hearing. 

“It’s fine. I understand. It’s not like I didn’t think this was a possibility.” He moved away from the door, signaling to Harry that he could leave before sinking into one of the empty seats. He sat up straight, his fingers gripping the sides of the desk, staring straight ahead. Harry could tell that he was trying to remain composed until he left the room. 

But he wasn’t going to do that. 

Slowly, he walked closer and took the seat next to Draco’s. He felt a pang in his chest and a hollowness in his stomach. Fear, sadness, and guilt fighting to take over. He noticed his own hand shaking as he reached over to lay it on top of one of Draco’s. That small touch was all it took to break his composure. He let out of breath, slumping forward in his seat. He held his head up in one hand and gripped Harry’s fingers with the other. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. He felt a single tear falling down his cheek. “I had no idea you had been thinking that. I’m the worst friend ever.” Draco finally turned his head to look at him. His eyes were full of tears, but they were also full of hope. 

“That’s not why then?” He asked, his voice breaking. “That’s not why you’re mad?”

“No-” Harry started, but Draco dove across the small distance between them and enveloped him in a hug before he could explain. Harry felt himself relaxing as he held Draco tightly. 

“I thought I was losing my best friend.” 

“You couldn’t,” Harry promised, running a soothing hand up and down Draco’s back. “You’re stuck with me.” Draco pulled back, searching Harry’s expression. 

“So why were you mad at me?”

“It was stupid,” Harry assured him, feeling embarrassed. “When you disappeared last night, we were really worried about you. Ron, Hermione and I searched everywhere for you. We waited in the common room hoping you would come down to talk. We wanted to be there for you. But you called Blaise and Pansy. I understand why you did it now. I was just upset and I guess jealous. I thought we were closer. I thought you wanted to be part of our friend group.” 

“Did Harry Potter just admit to being jealous?” Draco smirked. It was amazing how quickly he could recover. There was no trace of sadness left on his face except for the redness in his eyes. Now he just looked smug. Harry rolled his eyes, wiping his face with one hand and swiping at Draco with the other. 

“I’m used to only having them,” Draco said more seriously. 

“Well you don’t just have them anymore,” Harry said, meeting Draco’s eyes. 

“I’ll remember that next time.” They were both leaning forward, talking in whispers, eyes never wavering from each other. It would’ve been so easy for Harry to close the couple inches between them, and he desperately wanted to. Maybe he would have if Blaise and Pansy hadn’t walked in at that precise moment. 

“Draco there you-” Blaise started, stopping short when he noticed Harry and the position that they were sitting in. Harry sat up straight feeling the heat rising to his cheeks despite the annoyance he felt at their unwelcome arrival. Pansy raised her eyebrows at him.

“Blaise,” Draco said, sitting up straight and successfully playing it cool. Harry would have to ask him how he always managed to look so nonchalant sometime. “Did you need something?”

Blaise’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he plastered on his fake pleasant smile again. 

“Pansy and I were just coming to invite you to our end of term party tonight.”

“It’s our last year at Hogwarts,” Pansy chimed in, “and with Christmas break starting next week we got special permission from Professor Mcgonagall to throw a party in the common room. All eighth years are welcome.”

“Unfortunately,” Blaise said, eyeing Harry. Then, when Pansy elbowed him, he added, “We hope to see you both there.” And with one last wink each (Pansy at Harry and Blaise at Draco), they left the room. 

“Well, that’s kind of perfect,” Draco said, after a moment of silence. “I mean, a party would be the best place to do the breakup scene, right?” 

Harry felt like he had been slapped. 

“Breakup scene?”

“Yeah.” Draco fiddled with his thumbs, avoiding eye contact. “I think Blaise may be ready to get back together, and it’s not like either one of us wants to carry this lie into the holidays with us.” He looked up at Harry and gave him a half-hearted smile, lifting one of his shoulders in a shrug. 

“Right,” Harry said, ignoring the panic he was beginning to feel. “Looks like we’re going to a party.” 


	7. The Breakup

Harry and Draco decided to go back to the library and actually get some potions work done. At least that’s what they said, but when they sat down at a table in the far corner of the room, all Draco wanted to talk about was the breakup. 

“Okay, so I think I should be the one to initiate it because y’know…” Draco said, gesturing to himself with a shrug, as if to say “I’m Draco Malfoy”. 

“So you force me into a fake dating situation to convince people that I’m not the sad boy who got dumped, and now you want to dump me in front of the whole eighth year?” Harry tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice, and his eyes trained on the textbook in front of him.   
“You’re right, you’re right.” Draco leaned back in his chair. “So you should do it. That might be better anyway. I could get some sympathy points from Blaise, and your friends won’t feel sorry for you because they’ll think it’s your choice.”

_ Do I get a choice? _ Harry thought. 

“Why should I say I’m breaking up with you?” He asked instead. When Draco didn’t answer right away, Harry looked up to meet his eyes. He could’ve sworn that there was sadness in them, but then Draco offered a small smile. 

“That’s easy,” He said softly. “Just tell the truth.” 

“That this was all fake and we were never really dating?” Harry asked, suddenly confused. He was still trying to figure out the look on Draco’s face. “Wouldn’t that defeat the whole purpose?” 

“No, you loaf.” Draco rolled his eyes. “Not that truth. Your truth. Just say you realized you don’t have feelings for me and you don’t want to pretend anymore.” Harry’s heart dropped. All of the air seemed to flood out of his lungs until he felt like he was suffocating. Looking at Draco was almost painful, so he dropped his gaze to his hands instead. 

“Right. My truth.” The words tasted bitter in his mouth. 

“And you can mention that you’re jealous of Blaise,” Draco said, causing Harry’s eyes to snap back up in horror. Had he really been that obvious? But Draco’s expression was playful. “Cause you totally were last night.” 

“Shove off, you prick.” Harry shoved him. Draco was just teasing. He had no idea how close to home he was hitting. Harry met his eyes and noticed that despite the fact that they were both smiling, that indescribable look was back in Draco’s eyes. Harry searched his expression, allowing his eyes to roam over every inch of Draco’s face, just trying to figure out what it meant. Their smiles slowly faded until they were staring at each other in silence. 

“Right.” Draco cleared his throat, looking away. “Now that that’s settled, shall I actually teach you something today?” He opened his potions book and Harry mimicked him. He tried his best to pay attention to the lesson, but his eyes kept wandering back to Draco’s face. The look was gone, but there was no denying that it had been there. Harry couldn’t help but wonder if there was something Draco was hiding from him. 

~~~

Harry hated parties. He hated large crowds, he hated big scenes, and more than anything, he hated attention. So why on Earth had he agreed to go to a party with the intent of making a scene and drawing the attention of a large crowd?

_ Draco _ , his mind answered for him. 

As Harry got ready to go down to the party, Draco was all he could think about. He thought of Draco being the first one to make him laugh after his breakup. He thought of Draco getting along with his friends and helping him with potions. He thought of Draco crying over the thought of losing Harry as a friend. Mostly he thought of Draco’s lips, soft and warm against his own. 

Harry caught sight of his own green eyes in the mirror hanging on the wall of the dorm room, and he held his own gaze as he realized something. He knew why he had agreed to the party, the breakup scene, and the faking dating in the first place. He would do anything for Draco. He would do anything Draco wanted. 

But what about what he wanted? What if he didn’t go through with the breakup scene? What if instead, he told Draco what he really wanted was for them to be together?

His heart started racing, the adrenaline kicking in as he made up his mind. He would tell him tonight. One way or another the lie would be done once and for all. 

“I’m going to speak my truth,” He told his reflection just before he left the room to go join the party. 

~~~

Harry could hear the music blasting from the top of the dorm stairs. The steps vibrated under his feet, the walls pulsating as he descended into a scene of complete anarchy. The common room that Harry had once thought of as huge now looked tiny from the amount of people crowded in it. There were obviously more than just eighth years in this room. There was hardly room to walk without bumping into other people. Someone had enchanted a bunch of glowing orbs so that they were floating on the ceiling and flashing different colors. Everywhere that Harry looked, people were dancing, drinking, and chatting. He scanned the crowd for a streak of red or bush of brown hair or the familiar white-blond of Draco’s head. 

He couldn’t find any of his friends, so he resorted to picking his way through the crowd, awkwardly moving around people and apologizing whenever he accidentally elbowed someone or stepped on their foot. There was still no sign of anyone he knew. 

“Harry!” A voice called in his ear, and then a pair of arms were wrapping around him from behind. Harry turned, loosening the person’s grip so he could see who it was. Pansy Parkinson was standing in front of him wearing a short black dress and a tiara. 

“Haaarrrrryyyy,” She sang again, taking both of his hands in hers and swinging them around. It was obvious that she had been drinking already. “I’m so excited that you’re here!” 

“Nice outfit.” Harry smiled, feeling relaxed by the familiar face. He freed his hands momentarily to straighten her tiara. 

“Oh, didn’t you know?” Pansy said, striking a pose. “I’m the party queen.” Harry laughed, startling himself with how casual it felt to just talk with her. He and Pansy never had a chance to become close, but he believed Hermione when she said that Pansy had changed. He was about to open his mouth to say something about how nice it was, or to comment on how things had changed when she wrapped her arms around his neck again. He only hesitated for a moment before pulling her in for an embrace. 

“I’m so happy,” She whispered in his ear. “I’m so happy you and Draco are together. He needs you. You’re good for him.” Harry felt his mouth go dry as Pansy pulled back to look at him, leaving her hands on his shoulders. 

“Thanks, Pansy,” He mentally facepalmed. It was probably the lamest thing he could’ve said, but what was he supposed to say? His mind flashed to a look of disappointment on Pansy’s face as Harry and Draco publicly broke up like they were supposed to within the hour.

He shook his head, chasing the thought away and took a step back from her. If she noticed that he was acting weird, she didn’t say anything. She just smiled, the gesture lighting up her whole face. 

“You’re probably looking for him, right?” Harry nodded and Pansy pointed a finger toward the far corner of the room. “He was over there last time I saw him.” Harry gave her a grateful smile and a pathetic wave as he made his was through the crowd in the direction that she had pointed. “Have fun tonight!” she called after him, and Harry felt her light tap on his ass as he went. At least he kind of hoped it was her. He didn’t want to think about who else it could’ve been. 

He maneuvered his way through the crowd once again. When he finally broke his way through to a clearing, he saw Draco. The corners of his mouth lifted, and he took two steps toward him before stopping in his tracks. Sitting next to Draco on the couch was Blaise. Harry didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed him before. They were so close that they were practically sitting on top of one another. Blaise had his arm around Draco and he was whispering something in his ear. Draco was laughing. He looked happy. 

Harry imagined the look on Draco’s face if he didn’t go through with the breakup tonight, if he told him how he really felt. His mind went through a series of reactions. First shock, then pity, then complete horror and disgust. None of them were the pleasant smile that Draco wore now. How could he take that away from him?

He sighed as he realized that he would have to go through with the original plan.

“Why the long face?” A voice said beside him. Harry didn’t have to turn to recognize the voice this time. 

“Ginny,” he said, eyes not wavering from Draco and Blaise. 

“They seem awfully cozy,” Ginny muttered, her voice hardening. Harry finally turned to look at her and saw that she was glaring across the room at Draco and Blaise. He felt himself softening at the fierce protectiveness in her eyes. “Do you want me to help you kick some ass?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. 

“It’s fine, Ginny. They’re just friends. Besides…” He stopped himself before he could tell her that it wouldn’t matter soon, that they would be broken up. He wasn’t sure if that would be breaking a rule. She turned to look at him, her eyes searching his expression. 

“What’s going on, Harry?” He found himself staring into the familiar brown of her eyes, into the half-curious, half-suspicious expression on her face. He suddenly wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to tell her exactly what had been going on. He wanted to tell her about the breakup he was about to perform and how much he didn’t want to go through with it. The last thing he wanted to do was lie to her. But that’s what he did. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” He flashed her a smile, but he was unable to meet her eyes any longer. 

“Harry,” Ginny said, forcing him to look at her again. “You know you can talk to me, right?” 

“Of course,” Harry told her, wishing that he could. “I know.” 

“Okay.” Ginny shrugged, still not looking convinced. “I’m going to go find Dean, but come find me if you need anything.” She disappeared into the crowd.

Harry noticed that his heart didn’t clench at the sound of Dean’s name. He really was over her. He would’ve been relieved if he didn’t know that he was completely invested in something that would turn out to be a lot worse. 

His eyes flickered back to the couch in the corner, but Draco had disappeared too. The only person left sitting there was Blaise, and he was looking directly at Harry, a triumphant look plastered across his face. Harry decided not to grant him the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of him, so he kept his own face impassive as he turned to face the crowd. 

He found Draco again on the makeshift dance floor. They spotted each other at the same time, their eyes meeting across a space that had been cleared in the middle. Harry’s heart hammered in his chest. He felt his palms sweating as he clenched his fists at his sides. This was it. This was the perfect place for them to breakup, right in the center of the room, in front of everyone. 

Harry cleared his throat. He took a step forward and said loudly, hoping his voice would carry over the music, “Draco, we need to tal-”, but before he could finish the sentence, Draco was crossing the space between them in quick, determined strides, and his lips were crashing against Harry’s. The force of the impact nearly knocked Harry off his feet, but Draco caught him, cradling his head in a half-dip position. 

Harry’s mind went blank, his body taking over, one hand clutching Draco’s shoulder for balance, and the other cupping the back of his head, pulling him closer. The kiss was urgent, desperate, all consuming fire, burning everywhere Draco’s skin touched his, until Harry felt light-headed from the heat of it. And then he was standing upright again, his breaths coming in ragged. Draco was still holding him close, leaning in to whisper in Harry’s ear, sending a tremor through Harry’s body as he said, “One more week. Please. Can we pretend for just one more week?” 

Harry tried to slow his breathing, tried to gather his thoughts, tried to think ahead to what Draco’s words would mean for him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stand another week of pretending. Still, dazed, confused, and already missing the feeling of Draco’s lips on his, he was helpless. 

“Yes,” he replied. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate all of the feedback and I love reading the comments!   
> If anyone wants to submit questions or art based on this story to me, you can send them to my tumblr askbox @siriusslyriddikulus


End file.
